Farewell to the Fellowship
by Young Storyteller
Summary: A story of the end of the Fellowship of the Ring upon the shores of Middle-earth
1. Default Chapter

Summary: The end of the Fellowship of the Ring upon the shores of Middle- earth. CANON and hopefully will do justice to the characters.  
  
Disclaimer: The Lord of the Rings plots and characters are the properties of J.R.R. Tolkien.  
  
This is a REPOST of a story entitled 'A Tale of Many Partings'. It is a revised and hopefully much better version of that story. Thank you to those who have read and reviewed the first time around.  
  
Farewell to the Fellowship. By: Young Storyteller  
  
Chapter One: The Beginning of the End  
  
For many years since the return of the heir of Elendil to reclaim the throne of Gondor after his long exile, had the people of the realm celebrated many merry occasions under the rule of King Elessar Telcontar.  
  
Gondor's long struggle against the enemy, so near to the land of Mordor and being the place where the hammer stroke was hardest in war of the ring had depraved them from any cause of celebrations. For so long had the proud folk of the white city valiantly fought to keep the evil at bay. Long and hard were the labours, and in the end, it was proven to be not in vain.  
  
For in the end, the task of the ring-bearer was fulfilled and the prophecy that told of the return of the king became a reality.  
  
Since then, the city that had once lived in fear and apprehension in the shadows of the dark land for so many long years had found many merry occasions that they could celebrate. They celebrated the crowning of their king and his marriage to his elven Queen. They rejoiced at the birth of the King's heir and children. The works of restoration upon the greatly ruined city from the siege during the war brought much gladness to the hearts of the people. They welcomed with open arms and many thanks, for the help that were offered by the elves and the dwarves.  
  
The elf and dwarf lords are close companions to the king for they had long toiled together in the face of darkness as three of the nine companions of the famously renowned Fellowship of the Ring. King Elessar had presented the fair woodland country of South Ithilien to the elves under the rule of the elf-lord Legolas Greenleaf. With the coming of the elves, the land is blessed and become the fairest woods upon middle-earth.  
  
With the elf-lord of Ithilien, dwelt his closest companion, Gimli son of Gloin who was the lord of the Glittering Caves in the land of the horse- masters, Rohan. Of late, the dwarf had passed on his prosperous kingdom (a haven for dwarf as Ithilien is for the elves) for others to govern and had moved to Ithilien to be with his dearest companion in his old age. A great love had been forged between him and the elf-lord and it was said to be the greatest friendship of dwarves and elves since the beginning of the world. Together with Aragorn, the three had the most remarkable friendship that drew awe to those who had witnessed their bond of friendship and love.  
  
Therefore, to the people of the city, the coming and going of the elf and dwarf lords to Minas Tirith are always welcomed.  
  
In these days of peace, especially when the occasion arises for celebrations, the people of Gondor and especially of Minas Tirith would flood the narrow, stone paved streets of the seven-tiered city. Voices of mirth and merriment could be heard far and wide, all around the place. They would sing, jest and laugh to their hearts' content. And they would drink to the King and his family. So thus it was for nigh a century.  
  
Dawn arrives again to replace the dark night as it had always done since the beginning of the world. Glittering star-filled night sky was soon replaced with a slender beam of light peeking shyly from behind snow-capped mountains. Life seems to stir along the rising of the sun. Soon, sunlight spilled upon the lands bathing the earth with its golden warmth.  
  
The sun- ray added such glow and beauty to Minas Tirith, the city of Kings. The city stood in all its glory under the morning ray, the sight of the great city, glowing like polished marble is the pride of Men. The sunlight promised that it would be a clear day but the coming of the sighing wind seemed to whisper of a different rumour. A rumour of rain that would echo the mood of all the world men on that day.  
  
That day, the people of the city had all come out to flood the streets. A familiar sight it was indeed but for the absence of the joyous voices that often accompanied such event. The air that day seemed awfully still -lifeless- and suffocating. A gloom had settled amongst all in the city.  
  
Once in a while, voices would rose in lamentation, piercing in the still air as if from far away. Hearts were humbled and weeping came fourth from the sound. The tidings were rife in the city, spreading like wildfire fed by the blowing wind. The hushed and grief filled voices spoke of the same sorrow:  
  
'Our beloved King has passed,' and so the news spread all over the lands as the sun above rose ever higher.  
  
To be continued.  
  
Very short and no appearance by the beloved characters just yet. They will come soon in the second chapter. Thank you to all who took time to read and more to those who review. 


	2. A Remembrance

Disclaimer: Lord of the Rings plots and characters are the properties of J.R.R. Tolikien.  
  
Farewell to the Fellowship  
  
By: Young Storyteller  
  
Chapter: A Remembrance  
  
Two days earlier.  
  
It was late morning when Legolas, the elf-lord of Ithilien stood upon the balcony overlooking his fair realm. The great river Anduin was glimmering in the sunlight like a long yellow ribbon, unceasing in its pursuit of the sea like it always had for centuries upon centuries. The sight of the running water stirred a deep longing in the heart of the elf lord, bringing to him memories of the first time he had beheld the sea. Legolas remembered that day clearly.  
  
It was on that fateful day that he, in the company of Aragorn, Gimli, Elladan, Elrohir and the rangers, reached Pelargir after assailing the Corsairs of Umbar and heard for the first time in his long immortal life the sound of the wailing gulls upon the sea. He remembered forgetting for the moment the misery of war that was yet raging all around him. And he had not forgotten the feeling he had felt that day. In fact, the awe at the sight of the mighty waters had never diminished but instead had grown stronger with each passing day. Stirring within him strange emotions that none save the heart of the immortal could perceive.  
  
Legolas sighed. Since that day his heart had always longed for the sea. Not even the beauty of Greenwood the Great (which was once called Mirkwood), restored after it's long darkness that has so long been his beloved home could quench the yearning in his heart. Legolas then had asked for his father's leave to bring some of the people of the Woodland realm to Gondor. His father, King Thranduil was none to please to see him leave again, but in the wise king's heart he knew that his beloved's son's heart rested elsewhere and not in the woods that had borne him. A father's heart always wishes for his child's happiness.  
  
Thus with heavy heart Thranduil yet again let his son leave his sight- permanently this time, for he only wishes joy for his only child. Legolas returned to Gondor then to offer his people's help for the restoration of the kingdom as he had promised to Aragorn. The King of Men who knew only too well of his friend's longing for the sea had offered him a place in his realm to rule as Legolas own, in which the elf could dwell with his people. Therefore South Ithilien was given to Legolas to do as he pleases and in the rule of an elf-lord, the lovely woodland became the last haven of the elves upon Middle-earth, ere the call of the sea-longing becomes to strong to bear and so they sail over sea, never to return.  
  
'Aragorn'.  
  
He may be King now, but to Legolas he will always be Estel, his best friend and remain. This was also another reason Legolas had decided to stay in middle-earth rather than forsaking it for The Undying Lands. His friends was a treasure to him, more dear than all the riches of the world. He was not willing to bid farewell to them yet. He smiled to himself remembering each and every one of them. How they had long toiled together under the shadows of evil to fight the growing darkness from engulfing all their beloved lands. And that friendship never failed, never once wavered but only grew stronger with each taken step. But time had changed and he had lost many of his friends to the slow decay of time, robbing them off their strength and finally claimed them to sleep in the peacefulness of death.  
  
Legolas remembered well, the warning of his father of befriending mortals. 'Befriending mortals would only caused you much grieve my son. They will grow old and fade while you will remain untouched by the passing time. And you will be forced to watch them wither and fade while you yourself remained untouched by the wheel of time,' Thranduil had once told his son. Legolas had to agree to his father's words. It wasn't apparent then when those words were being uttered, so many ages ago, but to the elf's dismay it had proven only too true now. He didn't know if immortality was a joy or a curse. What joy it was to live forever but what grief it was also to watch all that you had grown to know and love be taken away from you or changed forever beyond recognition. And Legolas had come to realize the sting of mortality. He had lost his beloved friends by the clutches of it.  
  
Eomer, Faramir, Merry and Pippin had all succumbed to the Valar's gift to Mortals.  
  
While he, an Immortal still lingers watching, as all around him, all things he had known and loved, to be consumed by the swift stream of time. For it is said that time passes both swiftly and slowly for the elves while they themselves remain physically unchanged. But still Legolas did not depart to seek blissfulness upon other shores for two of his closest friends.  
  
'Aragorn. Gimli'.  
  
Legolas grins to himself when he remembers the first time he had come to know the dwarf.  
  
'No one trusts an elf!' Gimli had bellowed to him at the Council of Elrond so many long years ago when they were met to discuss the fate of the ring. And when they had both been chosen to be part of the fellowship of nine walkers to destroy the ring, it was a miracle that they didn't kill each other right away. It was not to say that they became friends easily. As a matter of fact, it took many dangers (and seemingly one death) to change their minds about each other. But in the end, they became best friends and when Gimli became the lord of the Glittering Caves of Aglarond in the land of Rohan, still they often visited each other. And Legolas was pleased beyond words when Gimli had come to stay with him in Ithilien. The dwarf is now old but still hale.  
  
'Actually,' Legolas corrected himself. Gimli's body may be old but he still has the heart of a young wolf. He (as a matter of fact the whole realm) was careful not to mention the unfortunate word 'old' to Gimli as the dwarf would take offence swiftly if ever that word was being uttered. Especially, if it was spoken in reference to the dwarf.  
  
Legolas laughed softly to himself remembering his friend's antics. But as quickly as his mirth had come to him, the elf sobered when his thoughts rested upon Aragorn once more. For over a century now, Aragorn had fulfilled his role as a King tirelessly and without flaws with the loyal aids of his steward, Faramir and his friends. After the death of Faramir over a year ago, the steward's place was replaced by his son Boromir (who was named after his late uncle).  
  
Since then Legolas had noticed a subtle change on Aragorn's demeanour. He began to become less and less directly involved in the governing of the kingdom and often his young heir Eldarion would take over his many responsibilities while he would indirectly advice his son on the ways of the country. Legolas had perceived a sense of weariness from Aragorn and knew that it goes deeper than age. The children from the race of Numenor are blessed with a lifespan three times longer than the average men and Aragorn had lived even longer than any man of recent days.  
  
Of late, Legolas thoughts had often strayed to his most beloved friend. It was an unrest that refused to be quenched. Dark thoughts had come to Legolas' mind about his curious sense of foreboding but he often dismissed it as mere protectiveness of his friend's well being on his part. Just a habit he had required of old when he and Aragorn had spent countless times in their usually dangerous journeys together while the ring still slept in oblivion. But somehow, the unjustified unrest that was assailing him seemed to grow instead of diminish. He didn't share his uneasiness with anyone-not even Gimli for he does not want to worry anyone needlessly, especially the dwarf.  
  
In the end, Legolas made up his mind to ride to Minas Tirith the next day to seek an answer to the riddles in his heart.  
  
Suddenly, Legolas' thoughts were interrupted by a familiar gruff voice.  
  
'Not dreaming again are you, Master Elf?'  
  
Gimli was standing at the door.  
  
Legolas smiled. 'Nay, my friend. I was just resting my thoughts,' he answered simply.  
  
The dwarf though, was not convinced with the answer.  
  
'What seemed to be troubling you lately my friend?' Gimli asked.  
  
Legolas shook his head. 'There is nothing wrong Gimli,' he said again knowing well enough that his stubborn friend would never buy that excuse. The dwarf knew him too well to be fooled by such simple excuse. And his thoughts were proven true.  
  
Gimli let out a loud impatient sigh.  
  
'Do you think you can fool me with that ill excuse of yours? Do you think I've been your friend for all these years and could not tell when you are hiding something from me. I've noticed you brooding all these while and only waited for you to tell me what is going on in that strange mind of yours, yourself. But since you had failed to do so, I've decided to ask you myself. Now tell me what is wrong?'  
  
If his thoughts had not been so preoccupied, Legolas would have marvel at how many words the dwarf had managed to utter in one single breath. He knew that Gimli will not let the matter rest until he had wrench all there is to it from Legolas. 'Curse, this dwarfish stubbornness,' Legolas thought darkly. But instead he just sighed, although it was a minor compared to Gimli's.  
  
'You were thinking of the sea, weren't you?' Gimli's voice was softer when he said this but laced with sudden anxiousness. Gimli was afraid that his friend would leave him for the sea-that fact was clear. Although he was of the race of the dwarves which were ever suspicious of the elves but he had come to know and loved this elf. To lose Legolas would be like losing a part of his heart to the dwarf. Obviously, Gimli would never admit to that fact out loud but everyone, (said elf included) knew that Gimli would grief to the death should he loses his great friend.  
  
Legolas didn't answer the question, which means that Gimli's guess was correct. But from the elf's face Gimli could tell that there was more to the elf's thoughts than meets the eye.  
  
'And?' said Gimli, prompting the elf.  
  
'And what?' Legolas said bewildered of the interrogation.  
  
'There's more. Thinking of the sea is not the only burden you carry in your mind. Come now Legolas, do you not trust me enough to open up to me. Or am I not worthy to know of your thoughts?' Gimli's voice was quiet.  
  
Legolas looked up, shocked written clearly upon his fair face to hear those words.  
  
'No! Of course not Gimli. You know that I trusted you more than I do my own people.' exclaimed Legolas.  
  
'Then tell me what's bothering you my friend, for I hate to see you suffer alone. At least allow me to share your burden.' Gimli said.  
  
Legolas sighed again. He looked at his dear friend in the eye and finally he let go of his reservation and he told Gimli of the unrest he had felt about Aragorn.  
  
When Legolas was done, Gimli looked just as perplexed as he felt.  
  
But before the dwarf had the chance to voice his concern and opinion, an elf step into the midst of the conversation.  
  
'Pardon me, my lords, but a messenger had just arrived from Minas Tirith and he brought a message from the King Elessar to the elf-lord of Ithilien and Master Gimli. Legolas and Gimli looked at each other, both wondering what it might be. Nodding a thank you to the elf, both Legolas and Gimli went to accept the message.  
  
An hour later, a white horse was seen galloping away in the direction of Minas Tirith. The rider was an elf, his fair hair flowing behind him from the speed of his steed. Behind him a dwarf sat clinging upon his companion's cloak, ill at ease it seemed to be riding such a tall beast.  
  
The message that was sent had been short and simple. The King had the need to see his friends once more. It was not the first time that either Legolas or Gimli had ever received such messages from Aragorn. Yet, after Legolas' foreboding about, Aragorn the pair perceived that there was more to the message than was stated.  
  
For the same reason, both he and Gimli had set out as soon as the message was received. Now they are riding hard, keen to reach the city before the day ends. Neither spoke for words seemed to slow down their urgent errand. Urgent? Urgent because of what? Both their hearts thought of that but neither wanted to question it. All that mattered to them is that they reach Minas Tirith soon to Aragorn as possible. At length, it was Gimli who broke the silence.  
  
'What is the reason for the summoned do you think Legolas?' he asked, his voice rising against the sound of hooves.  
  
Legolas shook his head. 'I do not know Gimli. But I am sure important matters is at hand or else Aragorn would not have summoned us thus,' answered the elf in la likewise tone.  
  
'I do not deny that fact. Only to me it seemed strange after our talk earlier. The irony of it all seemed too much to my mind. It is as though Aragorn knew of our thoughts,' pondered Gimli.  
  
'I know not the answer to the riddle Gimli,' said Legolas concealing much of his thoughts and unrest within himself.  
  
'Well, I just don't enjoy bumping like a sack in this age,' grumbled Gimli.  
  
Legolas could not conceal his smile this time. 'Are you admitting that you are old now, Gimli?'  
  
'Now don't you try to be funny elf,' Gimli growled.  
  
Legolas didn't answer though he chuckled softly to himself.  
  
They rode on.  
  
To be continued...  
  
I'd like to say a huge thank you to my sole reviewer for the previous chapter; Frodo3791. 


	3. Of Friendships and Farewell

Disclaimer: The Lord of the Rings plots and characters are the properties of J.R.R. Tolkien.  
  
Farewell to the Fellowship  
  
By: Young Storyteller  
  
Chapter 3: Of Friendships and Farewells  
  
The two companions reached the Gates to the city one hour ere the setting of the sun, hard though were their riding without any delay from Ithilien that afternoon. Although the desires to meet with their friend were great, alas, a fuel for speed it is not. Yet in the end, they had arrived at last to their destination before the ending of the day. The great gates of the city that were forged by the skilled hands of the crafty dwarves were about to be closed.  
  
The guards of the city hurried forward to receive such honoured guests. They were yet young men, far too young to have lived through the dark days but they knew who these riders were and looked of awe could not be concealed from their faces.  
  
Legolas drew reigned there and leapt lightly down. Immediately he offered a hand to Gimli who was none too thrilled in heart after the long and hurried ride. Elven horses were perhaps more comfortable to ride to most people as compared to other horses, but to an aging dwarf who had never taken to riding kindly, it was not a pleasurable experience. Rather, if it was not due to the haste that was needed, the dwarf-lord would have preferred the use of his own sturdy legs over horses especially Legolas's horse any day. Gimli who had on more than one occasion voiced his opinion that the elf's horse was trying to do him in was more so convince in his suspicion now. He would have to talk to Legolas about the matter again. The last time he had tried to tell the elf of the horse's 'ill intent' towards him had earned Gimli a long-suffering sigh from his elven friend.  
  
One of the guards hurried forward bearing a mounting block.  
  
'We have been riding for hours on end and that beast of yours was non too kind to my back,' grumbled Gimli to Legolas once he had gotten both his feet safely planted upon the ground.  
  
'Come now Gimli. We needed the speed and you have arrived in one piece, have you not?' Legolas's voice was calm and his expression serene, which served to irate the dwarf even further than he already was.  
  
'Indeed,' said Gimli eyeing the horse darkly as though it was a vile creature that he had a mind to fell. In response, the horse neighed indignantly in protest.  
  
Legolas laughed. Yet again Gimli's strange ways had helped in easing his worries. 'Now Gimli, leave my horse alone!' said he stroking the magnificent creature's snout lovingly. Gimli's only answer was a look of pure disgust, which brought another smile to grace his fair friend's face.  
  
The exchanged between the two lords were not lost on the guards and they allowed themselves small smiles to adorn their own stern faces. Another guard stepped forward to tend to the horse.  
  
Their arrival was expected (unsurprisingly to either of them) and there waiting to greet them was the steward of the city, Boromir son of Faramir. It never fails to impress Gimli on how very much alike the young man was to his late father. He had the same air of nobility that Faramir had always seemed to carry with him, stern yet soft and kindly at the same time. Much alike to their king in a way, for the blood of ancient Numenor yet runs in the heirs of the House of Steward although it had lessened with time. But he was among the very few flaxen-haired citizens in Gondor where most of the people are dark-haired. He had inherited them from his mother, the Lady Eowyn of the Rohirrim. She too had since passed and it saddened the dwarf greatly to think of it.  
  
Together, the young Steward and his two guests went to the palace. No announcement of the arrival was made for both the lords required it not. For Legolas, all the stone carven buildings in the city were very much similar. To his elven eyes, he deemed that there were too few things that were alive and glad in the city when he first set foot in the city. The elves since then had helped Aragorn to set up many gardens so that the people of the realm could yet feel the comforting whispers of living things within the confinement of the city. Gimli's people, for their part, had restored the many damaged buildings with such skills that could only be found in the hands of the doughty dwarves. They had also rebuild the damaged gates with one wrought of mithril that would be standing yet long after the ages has passed. The blending of elven and dwarvish skills, had brought back the splendour of Minas Tirith as it was of old while the world of Men was yet young and before the failing years of the race of the noble Numenoreans.  
  
When Boromir had offered to bring them to their respective lodgings that had been prepared, both Legolas and Gimli declined the offer, being eager to meet with their friend as soon as possible. After all, that was their purpose in the first place. Even Gimli had forgotten of the excruciating pain on his back in his eagerness.  
  
'The King Elessar is in the palace's garden with his son,' the steward informed them and they took their leaves from him to go thither.  
  
They needed no escort for the ways of the palace were well known to them. They had spent countless times there and between them, they felt that they could find their ways around even blindfolded.  
  
An unexpected meeting, delayed their going for a while. Eldarion, the heir of the King was walking up to them, evidently he had just came from the garden. The young prince seemed pre-occupied, as though something weighs heavily upon his mind and in his hands he held a cloth, and the item underneath was hidden from sight under the rich velveteen material. Yet, he caught sight of the newcomers and his grave face broke into a smile when he saw the both of them. He was indeed his father's son. Dark-haired and grey- eyed he was a mirror image of his father though the softness of his mother's elven features was not lost on him. To both the elf and dwarf lords, Eldarion was indeed a jewel among men, even as his father had been.  
  
'Mae govannen lords,' he said coming forward to clasp both the visitors by the hand, mindful of the bundle that he was carrying.  
  
'Mae govannen Eldarion,' they answered simultaneously. An explanation was not needed when Eldarion announced:  
  
'Father awaits the both of you in the garden. He knew that you would arrive ere sunset. How he knew of this I could not tell. But father had always been blessed with the gift of foresight, especially when it concerns the both of you,' said the prince, smiling.  
  
'Is your father well, Eldarion?' asked Gimli suddenly. 'I do not wish to come all this way, bumping like an over-filled sack for nothing,' the dwarf's gruff tone though, did nothing to hide the worries of his heart.  
  
For his part, Legolas remained silent. But he saw that the smile had left the young one's face at the inquiry. Once again he looked as grave as he had looked before he had noticed them. And Legolas could discern more in the depth of the youth's grey eyes than any word could ever have done. He saw there, sadness and grief and all of a sudden began to understand more of the answer to the riddle that they sought.  
  
It did not comfort him.  
  
'I cannot say. Come, I will take you to him,' said Eldarion, refusing to meet their gazes.  
  
Gimli looked at Legolas in alarmed, but said nothing. And the elf offered no words to the inquisitive look he saw in his friend's eyes. Without another word, they had followed Eldarion's lead. Evening was beginning to get old when they walked in the fair garden of the palace.  
  
Finally, they reached a part of the garden where it was said to be the most beautiful in the whole of the realm. It was the place where the white tree was planted by the king in the young hours of his ruling of the kingdom. It still stood there amongst the greenery and trickling of a fountain nearby. The tree was a symbol of peace and of hope of a better future and it had always been regarded with silent reverence by all. A figure stood by it now, running gentle fingers along the tree's sturdy branch obscured by the shadows cast by the failing lights. Day is fast drawing to an end.  
  
'Aragorn,'  
  
Legolas could recognized the silhouette anywhere. The silhouette turned to reveal the figure of his long-time friend. A gentle smile graced the aged face. It was said that time worked but slowly upon the children of the race of Numenor, but its work was already evident in Aragorn's wise visage. Lines adorned the handsome face and the once dark locks of hair were now covered in frost. Only his eyes remained as it ever was, since the days when he was only known as a Ranger of the North. But that also had grown wiser from vast experiences in his long life. Their eyes were locked upon the wise visage of their beloved friend and none of them noticed when Eldarion chose to leave them. Something else caught the elf's eyes; Aragorn was not wearing his crown. A suspicion was roused in Legolas's mind then to the mysterious bundle that Eldarion had with him when they met.  
  
'I'm glad to see the both of you again,' he said casting a smile that was most beloved by his friends. 'You must be weary after such a long ride.' He cast a look upon Gimli. 'I hope the ride hither was to your liking?' he said in a knowing smile.  
  
'It would be, if only the elf's arrogant beast would do better to allow smoother gallops,' growled Gimli.  
  
Legolas raised an eyebrow to the remark and Aragorn laughed softly.  
  
The king sat himself on a stone seat.  
  
'Come and sit with me my friends and ease your weariness. I see that you have ridden hard. I have to thank you for coming as swiftly as you did. Forgive me if it was a trouble to the both of you,' said Aragorn.  
  
'Do not mention it, my friend. We are glad as well to see you again,' said Legolas while Gimli nodded in agreement.  
  
Aragorn just smiled.  
  
'My thoughts had often strayed to you of late my friend. Tell me, is there something wrong, or was it merely my imagination?' asked Legolas. Gimli did not interrupt, but he was watching Aragorn with the most rapt attention.  
  
'Nay, I do not supposed it was just your imagination my friend. It is well that the both of you are here already, for I wish to spend some time again with the both you,' Aragorn looked away to the darkening sky and added almost wistfully, 'for a while more.'  
  
Both Legolas and Gimli's attention was upon the men who was their long-time friend. Legolas could sense a deep weariness in Aragorn's demeanor, for a while to the elf that he seemed almost distant. But then they spoke together as they always had, about their long roads together and of all the joys and sorrows in their lives. They laughed again together and were glad to be there with each other thus. As the lights began to fail, they fell silent, contented to just be spending their time together. They needed no words to describe their friendship for none was needed. Their friendship was a sacred thing and each held it in high reverence in their hearts.  
  
At length, Aragorn spoke again. 'I wonder if our friends have ever thought of us from another shore?'  
  
Both Legolas and Gimli knew whom Aragorn were referring to. Three of their Fellowship had long since departed to the Grey Havens. Gandalf, whose errand in middle-earth had been fulfilled with the demise of Sauron after the one ring was unmade. With him also went Frodo, the ring-bearer and Samwise Gamgee had followed soon after, the last of the ring-bearers.  
  
'I know in my heart that they always thought of all of us,' answered Legolas gently.  
  
Aragorn nodded.' And whither do I go beyond the world of the living?' Aragorn's voice was quiet as if he was pondering the thought to himself. In that moment Legolas greatest fear had been proven true. Gimli beside him stood up abruptly when understanding finally dawned upon him.  
  
'Aragorn?'  
  
'We have come to the road's end my friends. And I have pass on the throne to Eldarion to govern,' Aragorn continued. He gazed upon his friends' eyes then and he could see there, only love and understanding.  
  
'He is much like you Aragorn, he is indeed the right choice. The world of men will survive to see many generations for your line will never fail my friend,' said Legolas past the tightness in his throat. Words seemed to have failed Gimli completely as the shadows darkened all their faces.  
  
'I have held your friendships more dearly than all the treasures in the world. I release you now from all claims except friendship alone for all your services to me had been without flaws. Only one thing do I bid you now,' said Aragorn.  
  
'You need only name it Aragorn,' said Legolas laying his hand on Aragorn.  
  
He looked up to face his friends again. 'I bid you only this. Seek for your peace my friends. If it had eluded here, perhaps you may find it waiting in other shores,' Aragorn's voice was soft and barely heard as the sighing wind brought with it the chill of the coming night. Legolas knew those words were meant especially to him and the elf could tell that Gimli understood this as well.  
  
'I go now to seek my peace. Fail me not in seeking for your own, my friends', said Aragorn.  
  
He then knelt down and embraced Gimli. Long was the embraced and for the first time Gimli threw all pride to the winds. Openly he wept.  
  
'I can't believe I finally get to see you cry thus Gimli,'said Aragorn, his voice breaking a little though his smile was genuine.  
  
And for once, Gimli didn't have an answer to the tease but he also smiled amidst his tears.  
  
The Aragorn stood again and he and Legolas looked into each other's eyes. Their eyes beheld each other for a while, finding there understanding borne from the love that was forged so many ages ago. A bond that was so true runs between them and in that silent moment when their eyes were locked together, they knew that; this bond, this love they have will never be broken, not even by death. And they embraced, a long embrace and it seemed that neither wants to let go of the other.  
  
'I hope you will always remember all that we have shared my brother,' interlocked in an embrace, Aragorn whispered for Legolas's ears only.  
  
Legolas fought to keep his voice steady past the tightness in his throat but he managed to whisper reassuring words to his friend in the beautiful Elven tongue:  
  
'An uir, Estel, gwaidor nin.'  
  
When they drew apart, Aragorn smiled. They watched together as the sun set completely, plunging the whole world into darkness. That was when Aragorn whispered a single word:  
  
'Farewell.'  
  
And he went away and never will he return again to the beautiful garden of Gondor that he had always loved as a living man.  
  
As the two friends he had left still standing in the darkened garden, a lone star appeared gracing the sky of black velvet. And the wind sighs into the night sky.  
  
Elvish translations:  
  
Mae govannen: Welcome or in some cases Well met  
  
An uir: For eternity  
  
Estel: Hope  
  
Gwaidor nin: My brother  
  
I hope all the readers had enjoyed this chapter. It was rather difficult to write and hopefully it holds true to the three friends' friendship. I'm sorry for the faulty elvish. I'm really bad at it and these words were borrowed from various websites.  
  
I would like to thank the readers and especially to all of the wonderful reviewers from the previous chapter: Foxy03, Frodo3791, Gozilla and Lia06.  
  
Thank you. 


	4. Those Whom He Left Behind

Disclaimer: The Lord of the Rings plots and characters are the properties of J.R.R. Tolkien.  
  
I appologised for the delay of this chapter.  
  
There are certain similarities between this chapter and the first chapter. The similarities are purely intentional.  
  
Farewell to the Fellowship  
  
By: Young Storyteller  
  
Chapter 4: Those Whom He Left Behind  
  
Dawn came upon the lands to replace the long night as it always had since the beginning of the world ere elves sang and hammer rang. Sunlight spilt upon the lands, washing over the peaks of the frost covered mountains. The silvery thread of Anduin could be seen from afar though yet shrouded in mist of the early morning. But from afar, gentle winds were blowing, bringing with them rumour of rain. Nothing seemed to have changed during the night but dawn brought tidings upon the lands faster that the dark night could have done.  
  
Thus, in the white city, all hearts turned but one way towards the gates that stood silent from the wall of the sixth of the seventh circled city. Seldom was that gate opened, and grief would often accompanied each time that it was. For thither lay Rath Dinen, The Silent Street, the place where ancient kings and princes, lords of old and the greats of Gondor slept in their final resting place. In that place also would pass the King Elessar, the last of the great kings of elder days and never again to return a living man.  
  
Many feet walked thither now, yet silent hangs in the air as they moved as one to the place where their king had passed at dusk of yesterday. With them went also an elf and a dwarf, forgotten almost to all assembled amidst their sorrows. Silently, the two friends walked side by side as they had always done, joining the stream of people to their one destination. And they waited, for a sign that signals the end of the old and the beginning of a new reign. So it came, in the form of a single bell ringing, piercing the quiet air of the early morning. No heart of those present was not stirred by the sound that seemed to bring tidings of sorrow yet at the same time a promise of better days. Thus, it marked the passing of Aragorn son of Arathorn, giving up the ages he had been blessed with for eternal rest. Many who assembled wept now unashamed, be they ladies or men of the city for none now that lives remember the days ere the ruling of the king.  
  
From The Silent Street, there came the lady Arwen and with her walked her son, the heir to the throne, Prince Eldarion and in the young man's hands he bore the White Crown which was wrought in the ancient days of pearl and silver and in the likeness of the wings of a sea-bird, for it was the emblem of kings who came over the sea. It was told by the loremasters that it was a custom of old that the new king should receive the crown from his father ere he passed. As they walked amidst the weeping crowd, the rain came down as if the heavens itself was grieving upon the passing of the great king.  
  
If all that had happened yesterday evening had prepared the two friends for the play of emotions that were brought upon by the unspoken message of the token that Eldarion bore, then they were gravely mistaken. Gimli wept anew at the sight of the prince, for he knew then that his dearest friend is truly gone. His companion by his side, stood without faltering though the anguish he truly felt could not be concealed from his bright eyes. The elf turned to look over the horizon. Softly, he whispered:  
  
'Namarie, gwaidornin. May you find your peace'.  
  
They tarried in the city although it felt as a heavy burden upon their hearts. Yet, the love and bond that they had shared towards their late friend stilled them from leaving. The grieving was yet heavy in the city, yet at the same time, all was made ready for the crowning of the new king. The friends found themselves to be all but forgotten as they waited together in their lodging.  
  
Gimli was asleep upon the couch, his frost covered beard almost reaching the length of the floor as he slumbered. He had fought valiantly to stay awake and keep his friend company but alas, old age had robbed him from most of his strength and he had fallen asleep in the middle of a conversation. Legolas looked upon his friend's sleeping visage and a sad smile came upon his face. He knew that one day-maybe soon- the dwarf would also have to answer the call of mortality. Even now Gimli's strength seemed to lessen with every passing year. Legolas would often jest about it with Gimli but deep in his heart he knew that with each coming day their time together draws to an end. He had just lost Aragorn, his close friend and brother in heart and the thoughts of losing another of his dearest companion brought an ache in his already grieving heart. And he knew in his heart that should that day come, he could never bear to say goodbye.  
  
'I could never bid farewell to you, dear friend,' he said quietly to his sleeping friend. Gimli was now deep in sleep and he was snoring. Another smile graced his lips at the sound of the dwarf's snore.  
  
'Often I would jest that the sound of your snoring would be the death of me, Gimli. But I know that it would break my heart if it ceases to sound', said the elf.  
  
Slowly, he lowered himself on the couch by his friend's side. And the elf began to sing softly to himself to ease the grief upon his heart although he was mindful to be wary as not to wake his companion. But as it was for elvish singing, the song only brought to the dwarf deeper dreams. Legolas himself was almost lost in his own reverie when a knocking on the door snapped him back to the present. He shook his head to shake away the remnants of sleep and looked over to his side. Gimli was still fast asleep, now with a smile upon his face to match. The scene brought a genuine smile to Legolas's lips.  
  
The knocking did not cease. The elf rose to answer the door.  
  
A man in the manner of the guards of the city stood at the door. He greeted Legolas gravely and honourably.  
  
'My lord, the Lady Arwen wishes to see you and Lord Gimli at the palace,' said he and Legolas nodded. 'We will come there soon,' Legolas said. The man nodded, wished him good day and walked away.  
  
Legolas sighed (he had been doing this a lot lately) and went to wake Gimli.  
  
'Gimli, wake.'  
  
The dwarf stirred but did not wake.  
  
'Gimli, please wake up, my friend,' said Legolas again, now gently shaking the dwarf's shoulder.  
  
The dwarf's snoring only grew louder. There was nothing else for it. Legolas kneeled down beside Gimli.  
  
'Gimli, if you do not wake up now, I would cut off your beard and turn them into ropes!' he said loudly to the dwarf's ears.  
  
That did it.  
  
Gimli moved so fast that it was a marvel to behold at his age. Legolas watched his friend with a mixed feeling of exasperation and amusement.  
  
The dwarf's first thoughts were to reach for his axe and cut down the head of the filthy creature that had dared threatened to cut his beloved beard. But he didn't find it and when he opened his eyes he found himself looking upon a pair of bright eyes that was filled with amusement. Yet strangely to the slightly disoriented dwarf, there was sorrow also etched in those blue eyes.  
  
'What is the big idea elf?' Gimli growled to his friend. He was having a dream of walking in a woodland realm whose Queen to the dwarf's eyes, he deemed the fairest maiden in all of Arda. Such dreams are not to be disturbed.  
  
'I was just trying to wake you up,' the elf answered innocently, trying and failing to hide his mirth.  
  
'Well you could try another way than to threatened me,' said Gimli trying to sound angry though he felt rather relief that the elf was smiling. Legolas had been really quiet since their meeting with Aragorn and the smile was rare to grace his face lately.  
  
'Well, you would not wake with gentle persuasions, so I was forced to take extreme measures,' Legolas replied, still smiling.  
  
Gimli growled an unintelligible reply under his breath.  
  
'Forgive me Gimli, I did not meant to disturb your rest. But we are called,' said Legolas and his expression was grave once more.  
  
'Nay, I've been sleeping for too long anyway. Who called for us my friend?' Gimli asked though he could already guess it in his heart.  
  
'The Lady Arwen,' answered Legolas confirming Gimli's guess.  
  
Gimli stretched, for his body felt sore and the cracking of bones could be heard as he did.  
  
'Ai, I'm getting too old for my own liking,' Gimli said baiting and waiting for his friend to respond to the comment. The elf never fails to tease him about the matter. What ever response the dwarf was waiting from his friend, the elf's reaction was certainly not it.  
  
Legolas's face fell at the words. Distress marked itself clearly upon the elf's smooth brows as he realised all too well the truth in his friend's words.  
  
'Legolas?' Gimli began, worried of his friend's response or rather, the lack of it.  
  
'Come Gimli, we are expected,' Legolas said quietly, not looking at the dwarf's direction.  
  
'But,' Gimli began again.  
  
'This is not the time my friend. Come,' Legolas cuts in, opening the door.  
  
'Very well then, elf. But we will speak of this matter, whatever it was that is bothering you now as soon as we saw the Lady,' said Gimli.  
  
'As you wish my friend. Now let us make haste. We have tarried longer than we should,' Legolas answered.  
  
Gimli let out a low grumble about strange elven behaviours as he tried to keep pace with his friend's graceful strides.  
  
They arrived at the palace where a servant was waiting for their arrival. He led them through ancient passages of the stone paved palace to a place that neither of them had set foot before. There lay a single door adorned with carvings that were done by hands of the most gifted of Gondor long ago. The servant tapped on it, opened it slowly and bid them enter and silently slipped away.  
  
Thus, they entered the chamber within. It was lavishly furnished as befitting for the noblest of blood of Gondor. It was dark inside for a velvet curtain obscured the sunlight from entering the chamber. The chamber was only lighted by candles that were casting a rather eerie red glow to the place. A figure sat upon a wooden chair at the other end of the chamber. Her dark hair framed her fair features. She was Arwen, lady of the elves and men, the daughter of Lord Elrond and beloved queen of the King. Yet, she was alone now as she never had been for all her life.  
  
She turned to look at them and they could plainly see the grief in her glance.  
  
'Welcome my friends. Forgive me for not turning my thoughts to you sooner,' she began as she motioned for them to sit down.  
  
'Nay, my lady. We understand that you have many cares to think about. After all, the kindness of your people had kept us well,' said Legolas.  
  
'True words indeed, but I should not have taken your friendships for granted,' she said.  
  
Neither Legolas nor Gimli had any answer to her words so they remained silent as they waited for her to continue. They could see that she had changed much. Although her elven beauty remained unchanged and untouched by frost, yet in her eyes they could see the difference. Where there were once bright lights shining within the blue orbs, they were now dimmed as a sky of a starless night. It was as if a candle had been blown out by the storm. Lifeless her eyes seemed now, as if she was without hope.  
  
'I have tidings which might bring you some comfort. My beloved had asked for the beds of Peregrin and Meriadoc to be placed beside his in the Rath Dinen,' she said.  
  
'That is well, for they are much beloved by us all. And none other deserved more honour than they do,' said Gimli.  
  
A small smile crept upon her lovely visage. 'There is something else that I would like to ask of you,' she said.  
  
'Name it lady. If it is within our powers, then we will see it done,' said Legolas.  
  
Arwen rise and went to a nearby table and pulled out one of the drawers. She took out a small box from within and turned again to face them.  
  
'My choice is the choice of Luthien and as her so have I chosen, though the parting I had to endure was no less grievous, even if it was a doom long expected,' she said. She opened the box and in it a ring rested. And the two companions recognised it straight away. The ring was adorned with the carvings of two serpents with a fiery green gem sat in the middle of them.  
  
It was the Ring of Barahir, the heirloom from the house of the Numenor. Aragorn had always carried it as a symbol of his birthright and he was still wearing it when he met his friends for the last time.  
  
Both friends were now looking at Arwen with questioning eyes. Suddenly, she turned her glance upon Legolas and said:  
  
'Legolas Greenleaf, dearest friend of Estel and myself, I ask you only this kindness,'  
  
'Say it lady,' said Legolas but felt silent by the keen sadness in her eyes.'  
  
'I bid you take this, and keep it with you as a memory of Elfstone and Evenstar in the lands where the memories would always be evergreen,' said she as she put the precious thing in his hands.  
  
'But lady, does not the ring belonged to your children?' said Legolas bewildered as he held the ring.  
  
'Nay it does not. It belonged to the ages long gone,' Arwen answered softly.  
  
'But what of you, my lady? Do you not want to keep it with you?' Gimli chimed in.  
  
She shook her head. 'I do not belong here any longer. I am leaving my friends. I will leave this very night.'  
  
'Whither do you wish to go my lady?' asked Legolas.  
  
'To Cerin Amroth in Lothlorien,' she answered.  
  
'But none live there now my lady. Whatever shall you do there?' said Gimli.  
  
'Nevertheless, thither I will still go,' she said undeterred.  
  
'All right then. When do we leave?' asked Gimli.  
  
'I go alone my dear Gimli,' she said.  
  
'Alone? But lady-,' Gimli did not have the chance to finish his sentence.  
  
'Peace my friend. Contest me not in this matter. I know my beloved spoke to you ere he leaves and he bid you to find your peace. It is the only way for me to seek mine,' she said and Gimli said no more. He understood.  
  
Then she turned her glance upon Legolas once more. She looked him in the eye even as her husband had done before and she laid soft fingers upon his arm. Here is one of her closest friend, a kin of hers and she knew that he would pass away into the West where she would never set foot. Softly, in the Elven tongue she spoke;  
  
'Will you remember us in the blessed shores of the Undying lands, my friend?' she said.  
  
'I will my lady. I will sing for you my lady and for Elessar so that none will forget all the deeds before the breaking of the world,' he answered amidst the ache he felt in his heart as he clutched the ring in his hand  
  
And she smile then, the most true smile they had seen from her since they had arrived.  
  
'I thank you Legolas. I hope you find your happiness my friend,' she said.  
  
To Gimli, she had laid her arm upon his bowed head and then she went from there silently as a shadow in a dark night.  
  
They had lost another friend.  
  
To be continued...  
  
Thank you to all the readers and reviewers: Frodo3791, Gozilla and Tinkerbell033  
  
The conclusion will be posted on Friday. 


	5. The Final Farewell

Farewell to the Fellowship  
  
By: Young Storyteller  
  
Chapter 5: The Final Journey  
  
Night comes once more upon the city and cloaked the world in its blanket of darkness. In the deep gloom, none save elvish eyes could have marked a lone figure walking towards the great gates and disappearing as a wisp of cloud unnoticed by the guards on duty for the night.  
  
Legolas had left Gimli to seek some peace that had seemed to be eluding him of late. Gimli was deep in slumber when he had left and he had preferred it thus, or else the dwarf would insist on accompanying him and tiring his aged body. It was a dark night for the moon herself was shrouded in clouds as if she herself was in mourning this night. His swift feet brought him to a small section of woods near the city where Anduin could be heard slithering in the silent night, restless in its pursuit of the sea since the beginning of time. He had always come there to seek comfort for the woods small though it was, offered a familiarity to him whenever he grew tired of the city. Often, he would take Gimli with him.  
  
The sea.  
  
The elf shook his head as if trying to get the thought out of his mind. Long had he denied his desire to sail over the sea. For the sake of his friends, he had locked his sea-longing deep within him. But he knew that by doing so that he was condemning himself with a cruel poison. One that kills slowly yet surely and in the end leaves the sufferer in complete mercy of its powers. And Legolas knew that his endurance was nearing its limits. It was now or never, he knew and to linger would be folly.  
  
He clutched the ring that Arwen had entrusted to him in his fingers. A promise made is a promise kept and Legolas could never deny the lovely lady her last wish. In his heart, Legolas knew that Arwen had gone from city. Forsaking all that she had, to ease the pain of her dear husband's passing. Arwen was already lost to Legolas the last time they had met.  
  
Just like when he had lost all of his other friends. Just as he had lost Aragorn.  
  
And here he yet lingers. Not aging a day it seemed as time passes. But as he looked upon all around him, he hardly knew the world in which he had long lived in anymore. The time of the elves is over. All that he had known seemed to disappear as mists of early mornings under the glare of the rising sun. His people were about to pass into myth. And Legolas laments for all that was now only left as memories of the days gone by.  
  
Gimli had insisted to know of his trouble, just as the dwarf said he would ere their final meeting with Arwen. The dwarf was adamant that Legolas confide whatever it is that was bothering him. The dwarf cannot be ceased in his indignation to learn of what was bothering him so and after a while Legolas had finally given in. They talked for a good few hours (Gimli managed to stay awake longer that he'd done lately in his determination to learn of what was plaguing the elf's mind).  
  
Legolas had explained nothing that the dwarf had not already known but he also conveniently excluded the part of the fear he felt about losing the dwarf as he had lost many of his friends. But Legolas could tell that the dwarf had discerned much of his thoughts. Much more than Legolas had let out in words. Thankfully Gimli did not press him to say more and Legolas did not intend to. Bless the dwarf though, for his understanding. Legolas normally would not think of dwarves as very thoughtful creatures (although he didn't really meet many of them) but Gimli of course, was an exception and for that, he was thankful.  
  
The leaves of the trees rustled together as a soft breeze played upon them as if voicing enchanting whispers among each other that only they could understand. Gentle winds caressed Legolas's face. Yet all this did not comfort the heart of the elf. The scent in the air is strangely familiar. The playful winds had brought with them tidings from the sea.  
  
'The sea'.  
  
It was all Legolas could do, to stop himself from abandoning everything and plunging himself mindlessly into the river that he knew would lead to the sea that was calling to him.  
  
'Teasing him'.  
  
'Taunting him'.  
  
'Tormenting him'.  
  
But an image of frost covered thick red beard, a grumbling voice he was so fond of and warm dark eyes, brought Legolas back to his muddled senses.  
  
'Gimli.'  
  
And the thought of his beloved friend was both a gift and a curse. A gift it was in the sense that it brought the elf back to rational thoughts but a curse it was also for it inflicted more grieve upon the elf. Because no matter what happened, Legolas knew that he would never bear to bid farewell to the dear 'old' dwarf. But Gimli was a mortal and no mortal save by the grace of Iluvatar alone had ever escaped the clutches of death went it came to claim the life that was borrowed. Legolas knew of all this. He had seen death laid claim upon all that lives with his very eyes.  
  
It proved too much a burden for the elf to bear. He cannot choose between his burning desire to sail to the havens or to stay with Gimli to the very end. Also, he had made a promise to the Lady Arwen and he meant not to break it. But in the end, no matter which road he chooses, he will lose his friend anyway. He was weary of farewells, and to think that another one is lurking around the corner filled his heart with much pain. He could find no peace there, even among the comforting embrace of the woods.  
  
Yet, the world did not stop all the while one elf was struggling with his mind. Already dawn was approaching and the first light of the day was peeking from behind the jagged peaks of Ephel Duath. But the sun was yet not fully awake and it will be a few hours till she was properly up.  
  
When Gimli awoke in the morning, the first thing he realised was that he was immensely hungry. The second thing he noticed and the most alarming to him, was that Legolas was nowhere to be found inside the house. Ignoring his growling and severely protesting stomach begging to be fed, Gimli proceeded to scouring the rather spacious house for the elf.  
  
'Now where did the blasted elf had gone to, so early in the morning?' he grumbled to himself, matching the grumbling of his belly.  
  
But Gimli's gruff words and tone as it always had, held no remorse in their depth but was fuelled with a deep worry for his friend's well being. He knew that Legolas was grieving more for Aragorn's passing than he had let on. And Gimli also knew that Legolas felt torn about leaving him to sail to the havens although the elf had steadfastly refused to tell him openly. 'Curse the elven pride,' thought the dwarf. To Gimli, Legolas was one of the proudest elf he had ever known (not that he'd chosen to know many himself). Proud and extremely arrogant, his elven friend had never ceased to torment him with what the dwarf called 'strange elven behaviours.' If any other elf had unwittingly offended Gimli with such behaviours (fortunately none, with the exception of Legolas.) the dwarf would not think twice in letting his wrath known. But Legolas was his 'proud and arrogant' elf friend and Gimli would not want him to be any other way although he would rather shave his beard first than saying it out loud.  
  
So when Legolas seemed to be much more silent than usual before Aragorn's passing, Gimli promptly knew that something was amiss. The elf was exceptionally good at hiding his emotions. Oh, yes. The dwarf knew it only too well. Legolas perfected the art of keeping his emotions from prying eyes like it was his second nature. But, long companionship with the elf had made Gimli able to read Legolas like a book. And he knew that Legolas could read him as well as Gimli did him or better.  
  
'Where is he?' Gimli thought frantically. His stomach had let itself known with a very loud growl. Legolas was not upstairs either. Gimli's back had also decided to join his stomach in protesting. Gimli stretched and grimaced. His keen eyes caught sight of a slice of half eaten bread upon the table. Yesterday's ration but still good and it was better than nothing. The dwarf polished the bread with relish and although it was not enough to sate his large appetite, he was content. 'Now to find the elf', Gimli thought. Satisfied that Legolas is definitely not in the house (Gimli had been yelling the elf's name at the top of his lungs) he ventured outside. Initially, he meant to search for the elf at the palace in case he had gone thither for some business. But instinct told Gimli that it was not so.  
  
'Hm, where would Legolas go to ease his mind?' Gimli wondered.  
  
The answer came to the dwarf even before he thought of the question. Of course, Legolas would seek comfort there. Gimli had no hesitation whatsoever that his assumption might be wrong. Hurriedly, he made his way to the gates. The guards greeted him politely when they saw him but much to Gimli's disappointment not one of the guards had seen the elf. But Gimli was sure that he was not mistaken. He went on.  
  
The morning breeze greeted the dwarf as he walked upon the small woodland. The river was raging beside the woods. Small spring flowers were beginning to sprout themselves out of the damp earth after their long winter slumber. A small orange butterfly was fluttering amongst the greenery. So beautiful it was that Gimli actually stopped to look upon it. He had nearly extended his arm to touch the dazzling creature when he caught himself. What was he doing? He needed to find his friend and that behaviour of his was absolutely absurd! What if one of his kindred happened to walk past just then? Worse, what if the elf himself had caught him? Legolas would never let Gimli hear the end of it, the dwarf was sure.  
  
'Look at what spending too much time with you is making me do, elf,' he thought to himself darkly. But suddenly, Gimli felt sadden that their days of companionship would soon end when the elf leaves for Valinor. The dwarf had always tried not to think of it but he had always known that he would lose Legolas thus. And that time has finally arrived. Gimli knew that with the passing of Aragorn that the elf will soon give in to his longing. Sometimes, Gimli envied the relationship that the man and elf had shared. It was very much similar in nature to Gimli's own relationship with legolas but there was a bond that was untouchable in their friendship that Gimli couldn't really decipher. It was born from pure love and brotherhood and the men and elf shared the deepest of it.  
  
Sighing, the dwarf continued his search. His stomach was still protesting though not as terribly as before but he still felt rather sore in the back. Growing old is not fun as Gimli grudgingly had to agree. One would wonder why the dwarf has not start yelling his friend's name like he did in their lodging. The woods are small and should he yell in that booming voice of his, every creature in the confinement of the area would hear him perfectly even with Anduin rushing beside it. But as Gimli had often accompanied the elf to the place, he had learned that it was a peaceful area and noise of any sort was not welcome there. It was a very elvish thought indeed but thankfully, Gimli did not realise this. His keen sight was actively at work this very morning as he caught sight of the person he was looking for.  
  
Alarm fills Gimli's mind when he saw that Legolas was slumped against a tree that was the elf's favourite as if unconscious. 'Or something worse,' Gimli's mind thought fearfully. The dwarf knew the price of grief on elven souls. He lunged forward in a speed that belied his age.  
  
'Legolas!'  
  
The elf did not stir which alarms Gimli even more. Legolas was usually very alert even in rest. Now it was his turn to kneel beside the elf's prone body. Legolas's eyes were open but unseeing and much to Gimli's eternal relief, the elf was breathing. Normally. The elf was merely asleep. In normal circumstances, Gimli might have claimed revenge upon Legolas to get back to the elf for the 'amusing' way in which he had used to wake Gimli up just yesterday but today it isn't normal. The fact that Legolas did not even stir or awknowledged Gimli's presence disturbed the dwarf greatly. Legolas, as all elves were, has perfect senses and he would never let anyone caught him unawares. Also, Gimli realised, his friend looked tired, weary and spent as if he had spent the whole night in a battle. Which he did, if Gimli only knew. Legolas had fought with his emotions which could prove a dangerous battle for elves.  
  
'Legolas, wake up, my friend. It is a fair morning that I'm sure you will approve,' said Gimli shaking the elf's shoulders with such gentleness he did not know he possess.  
  
Legolas stirred. His eyes lost their previously vacant look that they held and was replaced by one of recognition. And great confusion.  
  
'Gimli?'  
  
Gimli smiled. 'Yes, it's me elf. Are you all right?'  
  
Legolas nodded. 'What happened?'  
  
'Well, I was just about to ask you the very exact question, my friend.'  
  
Legolas though did not felt like explaining. He did not remember when sleep had laid claim upon him. He must have exhausted himself from grieving.  
  
'What is the time now?' Legolas asked.  
  
'I figured that it is almost 8 o'clock in the morning of the second day of March,' answered Gimli.  
  
'How did you find me?' asked Legolas as he stood up and dusted his raiment.  
  
'It was not hard elf. Why did you choose to sleep here Legolas? And without informing me too! You had me worried when I woke up and found that you are all but missing without as much as a message,' said Gimli.  
  
Legolas did not look to him as he answered. 'Forgive me Gimli, I meant not to worry you. But I cannot find any peace in the city my friend, said Legolas. 'Nor can I find them here,' he added softly.  
  
Gimli eyed his friend with critical eyes. 'The sea calls to you again,' Gimli said.  
  
Legolas nodded slowly, his gaze still refused to meet Gimli's.  
  
'I aer cad enni ui,' Legolas whispered softly. The words were not meant for Gimli to hear. But the dwarf did heard nonetheless.  
  
It is at times like this that Gimli regretted not learning the elven language.  
  
'Legolas, you know I don't understand any other word of elvish except maybe 'elvellon' and mellon (thanks to Moria), so could you please repeat what you have just said in the common tongue, if you don't mind,' said Gimli patiently.  
  
Legolas was caught off-guard by the dwarf's sudden politeness and for the first time that morning he turned to look Gimli in the eye although his expression was unreadable to the dwarf.  
  
'Forgive me Gimli. I intended no offence,' he said quietly, taking his gaze elsewhere again towards the horizon. He opened his mouth again to speak but the words did not come for his breath was caught in his throat as he saw a flock of white birds flying over the horizon. Their wailings, pierced the stillness of the morning air and pierced also the heart of the elf. For indeed they were gulls. The birds that spoke of the wide sea in their unceasing wailing of the crashes of waves upon the shore and white sand upon beaches.  
  
And Legolas deep longing was stirred as it never had been. Gimli felt as if a tide of sorrow had come crashing down upon him as he looked at the mesmerised gaze of his friend. Legolas would soon leave him. The call of the sea had won. 'Better this way,' thought Gimli, 'than before the elf stood upon another grave.' He knew that the grief would kill Legolas then and his friend does not deserve that.  
  
'We are all that's left of the Fellowship, Gimli,' said Legolas at length. Gimli had no answer to the statement. When his time comes, he too would have to go and then Legolas would be truly alone. The thought scared Gimli. They were silent.  
  
'The sea calls me always my friend,' Legolas whispered after a while.  
  
'Then you should answer them calls,' said Gimli loyally. 'You had eluded them for far too long already, my friend.'  
  
Legolas turned to look upon him and sadness was in his glance. 'But I cannot leave you Gimli,' he said softly.  
  
Gimli snorted to hide his own melancholy. He hated it when the elf was in one of these moods. He liked it even lesser when he himself was being affected by it.  
  
'Better do it soon, while I can still bid you farewell. I doubt that it would mean anything to me when I'm deep under the earth,' said Gimli. 'And that ring you hold. You have promised the lady to bear it across the sea.  
  
Legolas was fingering the precious ring and did not answer. They were silent again as time stretches and Gimli's stomach was again beginning to get impatient.  
  
Suddenly and unexpectedly, Legolas turned towards Gimli again and this time strangely, there was joy in his glance.  
  
'What?' Gimli asked.  
  
'Gimli, whom is it to you is the fairest Lady in the whole of Arda?' Legolas asked as if he is in a game of riddles.  
  
Gimli looked at Legolas as if the elf had suddenly grown two heads. 'What?'  
  
'You heard me the first time my friend,' said Legolas.  
  
Gimli knew the answer to Legolas's questions at once for she had always held his heart. A vision of enchanting loveliness entered the thoughts of Gimli. He had often thought of her in his waking existence and often she had graced his dreams with her beautiful presence. Gimli would never forget the sparkle of elven eyes turned towards him with kindness and understanding in the glance or the sound of her voice like the clear ringing of wind chimes, soothing his soul. 'None other can surpass the beauty of the Lady Galadriel, the loveliest of ladies upon Earth,' said Gimli as he felt a soft blush spreading across his cheeks. Legolas just smiled. The elf had long known the answer.  
  
'Do you still carry her gift with you my friend?' asked Legolas.  
  
'Aye, I carry it with me always,' answered Gimli. And truthfully, three locks of golden hair were indeed tucked neatly inside Gimli's tunic, near his heart. He had at first plan to keep it safe upon a golden cushion in a glass case as an heirloom of his house, but he found his thoughts often strayed to them when he was away. Therefore, the locks of hair had since found their residence closest to the dwarf's heart.  
  
'But it would never be the same as setting eyes upon her beauty again, will it?' Legolas continued softly.  
  
'Nay-.where are you getting at elf? Be swift with it for my belly grows impatient,' Gimli growled, cursing the 'strange elven behaviours' more so than usual that day.  
  
'If you have a chance to return the gift back to the owner, would you do it, Gimli?' said Legolas.  
  
'I would,' Gimli answered, when suddenly understanding dawned upon him about what the elf is trying to imply. 'Do not offer what is not yours to give, Legolas,' he warned.  
  
'If you were to come with me my friend, then you could,' Legolas said.  
  
'But no dwarf had ever been allowed to that place. Furthermore, I doubt that the lady even remembers me,' Gimli reasoned. In truth, it was an offer too good to be true to Gimli. But he knew that the grace was difficult to obtain and he dared not hope too much upon it.  
  
'Then you are wrong, Gimli. She always held you in her thoughts just as you always held her gift in you heart. Come with me Gimli. I would plead for you on my knees in front of Iluvatar himself if need be. But I think not. Even among my own people, you are renowned for your brave deeds, my friend.'  
  
Gimli hesitated. How do you plan to journey to the Blessed Realm?'  
  
A ship I will build in Ithilien. A grey ship that will sail away to the West and never to return. Please Gimli, I bid you come with me,' Legolas was all but pleading. He knew that he would never leave without Gimli.  
  
'I cannot give you my answer now. I need to think it over first,' said Gimli.  
  
Now it was Legolas's turn to be patient. 'Then I will wait for your answer, my friend. But do not be too long in pondering them I beg,' said the elf.  
  
'A month later'.  
  
The elf-lord of South Ithilien had given up his realm to answer at last the call of the sea that he had so long been denying. With him it is said, went also his great friend, the dwarf-lord of Aglarond. They brought along with them a token that symbolises all the deeds of the lost ages. Neither to the greenwood nor to the glittering caves did the two friends walked evermore. The grey sail of the elven ship was a glorious sight to behold as it sailed away from Middle-earth in the early morning. And when the sight of white shores and beyond them a far green country spilt in sunlight greeted the ship, two hearts finally found their peace.  
  
The End.  
  
'And when that ship passed, an end is come upon middle-earth of the Fellowship of the Ring.'  
  
J.R.R. Tolkien  
  
Thank you to all who have read and reviewed this story. A special mention to Frodo3791 who had without fail reviewed all the chapters. Thank you. 


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